


Written Away

by sugakookies_with_tae



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Fluff, Gangs, M/M, Naruto sees ghosts, Slow Burn, Spirits, Writer's Block, Writing, sasuke is a broke author with writer's block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-03-06 06:38:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13405545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugakookies_with_tae/pseuds/sugakookies_with_tae
Summary: Writer's block was literally hell.At least, that's what Sasuke thinks until he meets a man named Naruto one spring day in the city park.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's sunny, it's spring, and Sasuke's broke.

Writer’s block was literally hell.

 _It should be listed as a safety hazard under my job description,_ Sasuke Uchiha grumbled internally. The dark-haired novelist was slumped over his desk, head hitting the computer keyboard and sending nonsensical trails of letters speeding across the empty document on screen. He stared out the window drowsily; not that the window had much view to offer, but it was more entertaining than the cluttered two-by-three meter apartment room around him.

Yet another dream was crashing and dying around him, Sasuke reflected grimly. At this point he would probably have to return to civilization and try to sneak into some editing business. Just the thought of it brought a bad taste to his mouth, but Sasuke was a realist and decently concerned with his stomach. And it didn’t take a genius to see that he was obviously failing as an author.

Writer’s block had been his last concern when he’d first started out with his career as a professional novelist. He was pretty sure he’d seen enough of life and human nature to write enough books to fill a library. Maybe he’d seen a little _too_ much. Sasuke shuddered at the thought.

He hadn’t calculated the fact that some of what he’d seen he would never be able to write about. Not without having a full-blown panic attack.

No joke. It had sent him to the hospital once.

Sasuke reached absentmindedly for his panic meds. Just thinking about that incident - or his past life in general - usually tired him out. He’d gotten far better at controlling those annoying anxiety hormones of his, but some memories were still a bit… triggering, to say the least.

Blocking his mind from entering memory lane again, Sasuke turned back to the window. It was a balmy spring day, blue skies scarfed with haze and laced with pink sakura blossoms. He could hear children’s laughter floating up from the street, and a sleepy smile spread over his face. Maybe he could write a story about children. Normal, everyday kids. But he’d never quite been a normal, everyday kid himself; and as Sasuke was a firm believer in the ‘write what you know’ mantra, there was another idea he couldn’t pursue.

His phone rang suddenly, shocking Sasuke out of his stupor. He pulled it out of his pocket slowly, frowning with distaste when he saw his landlord’s number. Oh god. This couldn’t be good.

It wasn’t.

“Sasuke.” His landlord’s gravelly voice was characteristically angry. “Rent.”

Sasuke groaned. He’d known this was coming, and it was the cherry on top to his misery.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shimura,” he sighed. “It’s not gonna work out.”

“It’s not cheap keeping you there, you know,” Mr. Shimura growled. “If you continue trying to skirt your payment the way you are, I’m going to have to forcibly eject you.”

 _I’m not fucking_ trying _to ‘skirt my payment’,_ Sasuke seethed. _I’ve been open and frank with Danzo about this whole affair since the beginning. Fucking grouch._

“I get that, Mr. Shimura,” he replied calmly.

“So where’s the rent money?”

Again Sasuke sighed. Rent money. Money in general. What a nuisance in life, man’s obsession with money. Then again, Sasuke knew he was being a hypocrite. He could see where Danzo was coming from; and frankly he wouldn’t mind having a couple more bucks on himself. (Which was a nice way of saying: he was broke.)

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shimura,” Sasuke drummed his fingers on his desk. “I’ve been thinking over the issue for a while now, and I’ve decided that I need to move. I simply do not have enough money to go on paying the rent. Again, I apologize.”

Sasuke wasn’t looking for pity, which was a good thing because Danzo did not seem eager to sympathize. “Fine by me,” his landlord snapped. “You can get your useless ass out of here whenever you wish. However, the rent money for the past three months you’ve spent under this roof must be paid in full at some point, and I’m not willing to drag it.”

“I get that,” Sasuke nodded. “Would you mind a steady payment plan, starting from this month and up until the end of the year? I can pay at a rate of maybe two hundred dollars per month, seeing as I owe you twenty-four hundred.”

“Jesus, man, are you really that out of money?” Danzo gaped. “Okay. It’s fine by me, but I hope you’re willing to pay interest.”

Sasuke groaned. “What rate?”

“For all the trouble you’ve caused me, maybe seven percent.”

This time Sasuke didn’t attempt to stay calm. “Fine,” he snapped back into the phone. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomo-” his landlord didn’t finish the sentence before Sasuke quit the call and threw his phone across the tiny room.

Life couldn't get any worse. Dead-end author, zero financial support, fucking _writer’s block-_

Still, Sasuke reflected, it was miles better than what life had been a few years ago.

 

The end of his time with Danzo was pretty anticlimactic. Sasuke sat in the man’s stiflingly gray office for two boring hours, mostly daydreaming and sometimes muttering a ‘hmm’ when the time was right. There were a few papers to sign, contracts to work out, and of course, bills to pay. Sasuke mentally checked his slim wallet and promised himself that he would hit the ATM soon, though he knew he didn’t have much there, either.

“So your whole ‘novelist’ thing isn’t quite working out, huh?” his landlord broke into his thoughts. Sasuke ducked his head angrily, pretending to check his watch. He was used to people casting this failure up to him, but listening to it never got easier.

“I’m doing fine,” he muttered.

Danzo raked through the pile of papers Sasuke had just looked through, a smug smile on his face. “It’s all right, Sasuke,” he remarked condescendingly. “We all go through that high-and-mighty idealistic phase at one point in life. Coming down from it may seem difficult at first, but you’ll get used to living a corporate life soon.”

 _Ignorant fucktards_ , Sasuke kept his head down, stewing. _Of course they don’t know. Of course they_ wouldn’t _know, not even if they lived a million years._

“You were a decent person to entrust the apartment with,” Danzo continued. “even if you did get drunk every other day. I hope you can get everything cleaned up by the end of this week so I can find a new renter.”

“Sure,” Sasuke shrugged.

“Weren’t you planning to rent the apartment out long-term?”

There it went again, the sentence every landlord said to him. To their credit, Sasuke knew that it was mostly his fault. Each time he moved apartments… going lower and lower down the price scale… he felt sure that this would be it, that he would get another earth-shattering idea like _Tobi_ had been. But nah, royalties weren’t enough to keep him fed and the downward slide continued.

“Some problems came up,” Sasuke evaded.

Danzo handed a packet of bills to him, signalling the end of their meeting. “Well, it’s been nice, Sasuke. But in the end, I do need someone more reliable. I suppose you just have an artist’s temperament.”

“I suppose,” Sasuke laughed dryly.

“Take some advice from me, Sasuke,” the man went on. “Get a real job. A lot of people write, but very few are writers. You’ve hung on long enough to this dream - ever since you dropped out of college at twenty, am I correct? You’re almost twenty-five now. It’s time to stop living in the clouds.”

_Ignorant fucktards. They never learn._

“I stopped living in the clouds a long time ago, asshole,” Sasuke said shortly, spinning on his heels and striding out the office door, slamming it behind as he left.

The weather was literally out to mock him.

Sasuke was unsure if the sun could shine any brighter. Still feeling irate from his conversation with his former landlord, the sunshine seemed like a personal insult. The fact that his bank account balance was dangerously negative just ticked him off further.

Sasuke had never been good at keeping his anger in check. It was another thing he hated about himself. Thankfully, he was exceptionally good at one thing - not showing that anger. At least, he usually waited for an opportune time and place to show that anger, like he had with his landlord.

But this mild feeling of annoyance wasn’t something he could shake off with a few colorful words or a punch. It was like a crick in the neck, slowly eating away at his patience. A grating, long-term worry, which his writer’s block only added to.

What mostly irritated him about his conversation with Danzo was the fact that behind all the condescension and patronizing the man was actually _right_ … or at least mostly so. He did need to get an actual job. Everyone that Sasuke had the faintest connection to was hounding him about it. The sheer stress of living the way he was was about to push him into it.

But Sasuke hated playing by the rules. He hated the fact that if he got a job he would be _beneath_ someone; a corporate dog, so to speak. He’d always been a rogue, and he wasn’t about to change now.

The other thing that annoyed him Sasuke was mostly used to as well, but it always left a sting no matter how much he tried to ignore it. A deeper sting, perhaps, than the ‘you need to get a job’ talk.

It was the one thing Danzo was wrong about. The ‘stop living in the clouds’ talk.

Sasuke could laugh at his face. Living in the clouds. When had he ever lived in the clouds? Even as a child, he had always been grounded in painful reality. The reality of death, of betrayal, of loss of innocence. The pain of a thousand knives driven into his skin. Only there weren’t a thousand knives; there was only one, one knife that had ruined his life forever.

He hated being a dog, a pawn. But hadn’t he always been one? There he stood, just a small figure on a great chessboard. Who were the players? Obito or Madara, Orochimaru or Kabuto? Or perhaps… Itachi?

What did it matter? In the end, Sasuke Uchiha was only a pawn. Someone pathetic, to be laughed at. Laughed at, the way Itachi had laughed at him that rainy day when he’d run to his house oh-so-happy to find-

Sasuke shook his head hard, feeling his fingers tremble.

No. Not there. Never there.

 _Focus,_ Sasuke told himself sternly. _Focus on some material shit. What are you gonna eat tonight? Where are you gonna live from now on? How the fuck are you gonna clean up the mess at your old apartment?_

He decided to tackle the second question first. Danzo had told him that he had one week to pack up and move out - an unfairly short period of time. Sasuke decided to completely give up on the notion of finding a habitable living space and instead settle as a tenant in someone’s house. Anything to buy himself time while he… searched for a job? Wrote a book? Sasuke had no idea.

Lost in his thoughts, Sasuke took a different turn and began to wander around the city. There was nothing much he could do; and Sasuke decided to be appreciative of life for once and let a long walk wash away the bitterness in his mouth.

He walked down streets and up sidewalks… past boutiques and bakeries and malls… over bridges and around lawns… past real estate offices with housing advertisements in the windows that he could only sigh at… Sasuke had no idea of how far he’d walked until he stopped for breath at a ramen store.

He’d never been a fan of ramen in particular, preferring rice; but Ramen Ichiraku was a decent place that actually did the Japanese noodles some justice. It was an outdoor stand in which people sat around a square counter on stools and watched their bowls being cooked in the kitchen within. It was an odd and extremely impractical design, but Sasuke liked it. It had a warm, homey feeling.

“I’ll have a bowl of Tonkotsu, please,” he called to the main chef, a man named Teuchi who had the reputation of making the best ramen in the city. The old man nodded amiably, whipping out a small plastic bowl and ladling out broth and noodles.

Sasuke accepted it with small smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re quiet,” remarked Teuchi, and Sasuke laughed, gazing around at the loud groups of friends and occasional couples crowding around the countertop. Ramen Ichiraku had always been a popular place, especially among university students. “Who are you again? I remember your face…”

“Sasuke Uchiha,” Sasuke replied. “I don’t come here often anymore, yeah.”

“Oh, I remember! You used to come around often a few years ago because of some ‘business matters’ of yours. You always seemed stressed each time, too. Grown over that emo phase, I see?”

Sasuke shuddered, not wanting to think about the ‘business matters’. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Got something on your mind?”

“Not particularly.”

“Young man, I have a daughter. I can tell when something’s on a young person’s mind.”

Sasuke exhaled. “Well, I’m older than those uni students over there, at least. And as for what’s on my mind… I’m just a little short on money, that’s all.”

Teuchi laughed. “That’s always on our minds, for sure. In a sticky job situation?”

“I don’t have a job. I prefer to… freelance, if you will.”

“In the arts? Or are you more of a programmer?”

“More of a writer, personally.”

Teuchi nodded sympathetically. “Ah, writers. They usually get the shorter end of the stick when it comes to financial matters. Well, no mind! Once you find something you’re passionate about writing, your true craft will shine through. I, for one, am an artisan in simple, easily accessible ramen!”

Sasuke shrugged. “Passion, huh. I dunno about that.” He pushed away from the counter as another wave of college kids came rushing in. “I’ll see you around, Teuchi. Nice meeting you.”

“Glad to see you back!”

Sasuke found himself smiling as he left Ramen Ichiraku, a half-eaten plastic bowl of ramen still in his hands. Usually he scorned such infallibly optimistic people, but when a warm bowl of ramen was added in the picture it worked wonders.

 

Feeling slightly uplifted, he walked into the town park. A quick glance at his watch told him it was four-thirty, which probably meant he’d have to start for home soon if he wanted to get there before dark; but the warmth and hazy happiness of his surroundings him convinced him to stay for a little longer. Besides, he needed to find a place to finish his ramen.

He strolled down the asphalt path lazily, checking around for empty benches but finding none. Finally, he saw a three-seater only occupied by one man, leaving plenty of space for himself. Sasuke sat down on the opposite side of the man, making sure to leave a wide breadth between them. He didn’t like getting too close to people, and besides, the other man seemed… weird.

Sasuke could describe him as a boyish-looking man with wild blonde hair sticking up in spikes, chin cocked up to the sky and late-afternoon sunlight glinting off his bright blue eyes, wearing a glaring orange jumpsuit that no doubt indicated a loud, brash personality; but that didn’t quite frame him the way Sasuke wanted it to. There was something more to this man, a depth that Sasuke rarely sensed in people of his age group. The stranger could not be much older than himself.

Feeling intrigued, Sasuke turned on his ‘eye of insight’, his secret tool which allowed him to mentally strip any stranger to their bare bones. It was amazing how human experience could be predicted by only several simple indicators. He often turned on this ‘eye’ to create characters with the people around him; sometimes using it to freak people out at parties by stunning them with its accuracy.

As he sowed away at his ramen, Sasuke observed the blonde stranger, trying to pick at his raw essence. He was hyperactive, Sasuke noticed, by the twitching of his feet. He was open and optimistic; this could be seen by the way he held his hands behind his head. He was stubborn as well. There was a hardened resolve in his jawline and a blatant “I-don’t-care” attitude in the bright orange he wore.

And yet, Sasuke still felt unsatisfied. There was still more. The man’s eyes were startling… reflecting light so well that they seemed to be emitting orange light themselves. They were fierce, but also oddly dreamy. Therefore, the man must be looking at things unseen. But just what could that be? There were no clues to find _that_ out.

For once, his ‘eye of insight’ was failing. Sasuke clenched his teeth. He would _not_ lose.

Just as he slurped up the last noodle in the bowl, the strange man blinked hard, twitched his nose, and turned on him.

“Is that _Ramen Ichiraku_ I smell?” he demanded.

Sasuke jumped, momentarily caught off guard; then slipped behind his mask again. “Yeah. Why?”

The man groaned, throwing his face into his hands and pulling at his hair. “Dammit! Come on, Kurama, why d’ya always make me miss the cool stuff? I missed _ramen_ for god’s sake!”

_Kurama?_

Sasuke filed that away quietly. “Calm down,” he said civilly. “I mean, it’s not like I would’ve given you any ramen anyway.”

“You’d be surprised, how many people say that but don’t mean it,” the blonde stranger grinned. “Anyways, ramen is always best shared with another person.”

_Yep, he’s loud alright._

“Well, I was planning to go to Ramen Ichiraku later, but… I guess I’ll go now! You’ve made me hungry,” he added accusingly, rounding on Sasuke. “Don’t have any more, I see. Too bad.”

Sasuke shrugged. _Maybe a bit of an idiot as well._

“It’s only down the street. Not a long walk.” He wondered why he hadn’t cut the stranger off yet, told him he was crazy. Maybe it was part of the blonde’s mystique.

“All the same, are you _sure_ you haven’t got a little to spare?”

Sasuke turned the bowl inside out to display its emptiness. “Yes.”

“You’re cold bastard, aren’t you?”

“I’ve gotten that a lot.”

“I’m not surprised you have.”

“Why would you be surprised, if you called me a cold bastard yourself?”

“Why do all cold bastards like to smart-talk?”

“If you’d prefer me to shut up, I’ll gladly do so.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“So you want me to go on talking?”

“I just wished you’d talk like a normal person.”

“You’re one to talk about ‘normal’.”

There was a flash across the blonde’s eyes. _Ahh… the something again_ , Sasuke made a mental check. On the outside, this stranger seemed like any other ordinary idiot, but Sasuke knew there was something more.

“At least I make an attempt to be nice!”

“Aren’t ‘cold bastards’ supposed to be mean?”

“Not many are mean enough that they actually withhold _ramen_ from me!”

_Did I say a ‘bit of an idiot’? I was wrong. His idiocy exceeds the normal amount._

“Suit yourself,” he said, standing up to throw the plastic bowl away.

The stranger stood up too. “Hey, wait a minute,” he called. “That’s no way to treat a new friend!”

_A new friend?_

Sasuke turned. “Who said we were friends?”

“You sat with me in my Kurama mood,” the stranger said, smiling. “That’s never happened before.”

 _There goes that name… Kurama again_ , Sasuke noted, feeling thoroughly confused. What the hell was this man talking about? Why had he switched personalities so drastically? Who was Kurama? Why had he seemed to be in a trance just minutes ago, but was now acting like Sasuke was an idiot for not giving him ramen?

Well, there wouldn’t be much opportunity to answer these questions anyways. Sasuke threw them to the back of his mind, resolving not to get curious.

“I’ve got to go,” he answered tritely.

“Come on, man!” the blonde yelled. “What’s your name?”

“Why does it matter to you?” Sasuke glared. “Idiot.”

“Just curious!”

Sasuke turned back. This man was just plain weird. He’d make an interesting character to write about; but after all the most interesting characters were never people one would want to meet in real life.

He could attest to that, himself.

“Come on, man!”

“Sasuke!” he snapped, feeling annoyed. “Got it? I’m going! Goodbye, you idiot!”

But even as he retreated, quickening his steps as he went, he could feel the blonde’s blinding smile. Its brightness fairly scorched his back.

How could a person be like that… to be so idiotic and sunshiney… yet have something just awful lurking behind his eyes? There was something weirdly attracting about the blonde man as well… in his mystique, in his ‘Kurama’, in his - looks, too, if it came to that, but he’d never see him again so-

Just as he was almost out of earshot, he heard a shout.

“My name is Naruto, by the way!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be updating my other fics sigh


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> House-hunting is a bitch, but the problems don't end there.

House hunting was hard. Like, really hard.

There was no time to waste. Sasuke had no intention of being homeless - he liked his comfort, if you pleased. But the days trickled by, and the end of the week was fast approaching without any plausible real estate deal in sight.

He sifted through ad after ad, staying up to the most unholy hours of night trying to find accommodations. He made more phone calls than he had made in the past three months put together. During the day, he tramped from place to place to look at offers; but nothing quite suited him. If the room looked okay, it was definitely too expensive. If it wasn’t too expensive, it definitely didn’t look okay.

Sasuke knew he was being too finicky. He couldn’t afford to be nitpicky at a time like this, with his bank account balance dangerously negative and his former landlord breathing flames down his back; but he’d always been an exacting, precise person, afraid to make mistakes. He was also not willing to settle in a complete trash can.

On top of all this, his publisher had chosen this convenient moment to bother him as well. “It’s been six years since your debut with  _ Tobi _ ,” Hiruzen’s old, scratchy voice rang through the phone, and Sasuke grimaced. “We can’t keep you signed if you don’t do something quick.”

“I’m working on it.” Sasuke gritted his teeth. He would not let anyone in Konoha Publishers know just how much of a dead-end situation he was in.

He only just tolerated the company - on his best days, that was. The whole business seemed to rub him off the wrong way. But if he wanted to continue getting his scanty royalties, he had to be polite.

“I hope you can pick yourself up quickly,” Hiruzen growled. “We wouldn’t have any nonsense. I’m expecting something good to come out of you soon, with all this time you’ve stayed silent.”

“Okay.”

“I’m giving you a deadline of six months at most. After that, you will lose all rights to any intellectual property you have under Konoha Publishers, no matter how much Ms. Yamanaka complains.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Well, there would be one nice thing about being kicked out of his publishing company - he would never have to see the blonde, gushy fangirl Ino Yamanaka again. (He was well aware of the fact that girls chased him; though for what reason he could never figure out.)

The stress was starting to pile. Perhaps he had done wrong, running away from his problems and neglecting his writing. He knew that everything would eventually come to chase him. But still, he ran. Ran from his publishers… from his failing wallet… from the slip of blackmail he found buried at the bottom of his mail slot signed  _ Orochimaru _ ...

Hadn’t that always been his greatest fault? His tendency to run away?

_ Yeah, I’m fucking weak _ .

Sasuke ignored the voices. He would tackle this one thing at a time. First: to find a house.

“Yo!”

The man who opened the door surprised Sasuke. He was quite a bit younger from most of the landowners Sasuke had met, tall and lean with an athlete’s proportions. Despite his apparent youth, his spiky hair was gray and he wore a mask which covered his face from the nose down. He held a bored, apathetic look in his one visible black eye - the other being covered by an eyepatch.

“Kakashi Hatake?” Sasuke read carefully from his yellow legal pad.

Kakashi smiled - if his one eye was anything to go by. “Who else?”

“Yeah,” Sasuke breathed. “So, I see you’ve got like, a room for let around here, so I was wondering-”

“Of course,” Kakashi shrugged. “Come on in.”

With a nod, Sasuke stripped off his shoes and stepped into a narrow gray hallway. At this point, he felt as though his fake smile was frozen on his face; but he knew he couldn’t wipe it off just yet. Politeness called for it, of course.

“And you can stop that hideous grinning of yours,” Kakashi called back over his shoulder, startling Sasuke.

“How kind of you,” Sasuke snapped back peevishly, before catching himself.  _ Dammit _ , he cursed.  _ Well, the chance of getting kicked out may have raised by ten percent. _

“Oh, I know,” Kakashi only twinkled back. Sasuke jammed his hands in his pockets, trying to prevent smoke from coming out of his ears.

_ The house looks decent _ , Sasuke noted.  _ Not bad for its price. Of course I haven’t seen my room yet, so I might be speaking too soon… like at the place I was at yesterday. I’m willing to bet that that bastard was trying to rent out his broom closet. Though, there’s always worse places… I’ve gotten soft over the years... _

Kakashi turned to him suddenly, startling him. “Your mind is elsewhere.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sasuke didn’t know how to deny that.

“I’m guessing - on unfortunate circumstances?” Kakashi’s voice was pleasant, almost cheeky in a way, but there was no way Sasuke could miss the grinding edge to it. He almost felt like flinching. Perhaps he should re-evaluate Kakashi - he hadn’t exactly found him on the most legitimate renting website after all.

He only gave a short laugh in reply. “In a fashion.”

“I’ve had four rents in the past year, and three of them ended in arrests,” Kakashi said. “I was wondering if you’d follow in their example. You’re not exactly an ‘author’ by looks, you know.”

Was that a challenge in Kakashi’s statement? or merely ordinary rudeness? Sasuke didn’t see fit to reply. There was a little truth to the jibe, after all - Sasuke didn’t look quite like the complacent, glasses-wearing, book-inundated authors he’d seen on hardcover novel jackets. Tall, with a thuggish build, a hard stare and limp black hair sorely in need of a visit to the barber’s - he probably seemed more like a yakuza member than a writer. Which wasn’t the furthest thing from the truth.

“When a place is cheap, troublemakers come like the flies,” Kakashi continued, ignoring Sasuke’s stony silence. “The projects are just a block down, and homeless and druggies have squatted there so long it might as well be named another neighborhood. That place used to be pretty much lawless, before the city intervened and set down it’s boundaries. I can’t say I’m all that glad for the intervention, though. I’ve lived here almost all my life, and we’re none the better for the swarms of police; probably even worse, if you ask me.”

“Activities becoming more clandestine?” Sasuke said, his mouth twisting. “Lashbacks resulting in increased police violence?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Kakashi hummed appreciatively as they climbed a narrow stairway. “Figured you’d know something about all that wordly shit.”

Sasuke felt suddenly uncomfortable. “I-”

“Don’t worry about it. Up here we’re a decent distance away from most of all that, so hopefully you won’t need to demonstrate any more of your knowledge. Of course, in my line of work you might find some hanger-rounds, but feel free to ignore them, as well as my presence in general.”

“I haven’t sealed the deal yet,” Sasuke reminded him.

“So you haven’t. Here is your room.”

Sasuke blinked. They had emerged into an old-fashioned wooden attic sprawling over the entire area of Kakashi’s townhouse, with a mattress spread on the floor and several makeshift shelves and boxes shoved against the steep-slanting roof, and a desk and chair by the far window. There was a lamp on the table and besides the bed. No air-conditioning, but Sasuke had definitely _not_ expected such a wide space, and air-conditioning was for rich babies anyways. He was pleasantly surprised that his head didn’t hit the roof, even if he stood up straight.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “This is bigger than my last two rents put together.”

Was that a smile on Kakashi’s lips? “I like my tenants one at a time, Uchiha.”

“Are you sure there isn’t too much trouble ‘round here?” Sasuke asked anxiously. The deal seemed almost too good to be true, but if there was danger beneath it all... 

“It’s safe enough.” Kakashi gave Sasuke a long look, and suddenly Sasuke felt intensely uncomfortable under the piercing eye. He stiffened up, trying not to show his nervousness.

Kakashi let out a low chuckle. “Relax, boy. I’m not going to kick you out. In fact, I should thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?” Sasuke felt almost dizzy with elation.

“You helped a friend of mine recently.” Kakashi reached out to brush dust off one of the wooden shelves absentmindedly. “At least, you made him very happy, which does not happen very often nowadays.”

“Huh? I don’t know any friends of yours.”

“He probably didn’t do much explaining about himself when he met you.” Kakashi’s eye was amused, but there was also a sadness in them somewhere.

“Who are you talking about?”

“A blond, blue-eyed little bastard who is rather too fond of orange.”

“Who-  _ ohhh. _ Him.”

Memories of that almost surreal afternoon flooded back to Sasuke. How long had he sat there, staring at the blonde man and trying in vain to read him whilst slurping his ramen? The way those blue eyes had stared far, far out into the sky, glazed over in a way that was almost inhuman… and his abrupt coming back to reality and out-of-place jollity… it had intrigued Sasuke more than he dared to admit. Even in the tricky business of messing with difficult humans as he had dealt in several years back, he had never met anyone quite like the blond _Naruto. Right, his name was Naruto._

“I don’t see anything much about it.” Sasuke tried to play it cool, tried to hide the curiosity pounding through him, the questions slinging through his brain at a mile a minute. “I only sat next to him to finish my lunch.”

“You didn’t find him creepy or anything?” That  _ had _ to be a smile on Kakashi’s face. “Even I’ve found him a little unsettling when he slips into that alter of his. Naruto told me you caught him on a peaceful day, when he mostly just stares into space and sees things that aren’t there. So I suppose it’s not the worst of first impressions he could have made; but still, it’s a funny one. People avoid the kid in general, and even more so during his… er... funks.”

_ “You sat with me in my Kurama mood,” _ Naruto had said. So ‘Kurama’ had been… an alter of his? Did Naruto have a dissociative identity disorder? That could explain a little of it… but the answer still didn’t satisfy Sasuke. He shivered despite himself.

“So you know him?” he asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Have known him for far too long. He lives in the projects.” Kakashi seemed to find the view from the small windows very engaging. “Sometimes he comes ‘round here and hangs for a while, usually to try his luck with Sakura.”

“Sakura?” Sasuke stared. Never had a  _ girl _ been factored into his house-hunting equation.

“She lives here, too. But she’s not a tenant; she lives downstairs in the main flat. You’ll probably meet her soon if you decide to rent this place.”

Sasuke had to admit that he was far from a ladies man - in fact, girls had made him nervous for pretty much all his life. He’d never known how to talk to them, even as friends; and the fact that they all chased him in hordes when he happened to be gay didn’t make matters any better.

He’d had fellow tenants who were female before, however he’d never rented out a space in an intimate flat like Kakashi’s. It would be inevitable to run into Sakura, and the thought made him nervous as fuck already.

However, if Naruto did swing by several times… the prospect was interesting.

Sasuke swallowed his worries. “I’m taking it. This place, I mean.”

“Quick decision, Mr. Uchiha,” Kakashi teased. “Let’s go back downstairs to finish everything up, and I’ll show you the kitchen and bathroom. Your space upstairs might be large, but it’s impossible to have too many furnishings in an attic.”

Sasuke nodded. Feeling a buzz of excitement at his good deal (even if a girl was involved) he eagerly followed Kakashi back down the steep staircase and into the hallway below.

“Here’s the bathroom you’ll most likely use,” said Kakashi, pointing to a small hallway toilet. “I hope you’ve brought your own things, because nothing is provided to you but running water. And please don’t come complaining about having to walk down stairs to get here; I am tired of my tenants doing so. If you do it too much I may just evict you.”

It was hard to tell whether Kakashi was joking or not. Sasuke decided to play it safe. “I can handle it,” he said.

Kakashi chuckled. “Hopefully. There’s a small shower there, in the corner. Not as luxurious as the bathtub Sakura and I use, unfortunately. Here’s the kitchen-” and so saying, he led Sasuke to the end of the hallway into a large, light-filled room, warm and bright and decorated with flowers and potted plants. Sasuke caught his breath - suddenly, all he could think of was his mother, and the home in that faraway suburban town which he had left so long ago.

“One kitchen for all of us,” said Kakashi, gesturing at the commodities with his hand. “You’re welcome to cook with my stovetops and ovens, as long as you don’t get in my way. There’s a small fridge over there specifically for you; but, if you don’t use it, please inform me because I do not want to waste electricity. You can eat with Sakura and I if you’d like, or you can take your food to your room or to the living room only. Nowhere else, no negotiations.”

Sasuke nodded silently. “I have to pay for food on my own as well, right?”

“You’re welcome to have our leftovers.” Kakashi’s eye twinkled. “Really, it’s alright. Sakura’s usually on some sort of weight-loss campaign and we’ve developed a habit of giving our tenants what she doesn’t want. Most of them aren’t used to nice home-cooked meals.”

“No  _ shit _ ,” Sasuke breathed. This was turning out too good to be true. There just  _ had _ to be a catch somewhere. Kakashi was rather  _ too _ friendly, right? Or maybe he was involved in some really shady deals, considering what he’d said about the projects earlier…

Sasuke had learned not to trust strangers who were too nice… and the lesson had been reinforced almost too often. But- it was this deal or nothing. He turned to Kakashi. “Anything else I should note?”

Kakashi put up three fingers. “Well, of course, no going into mine or Sakura’s bedroom… unless you manage to have more luck than Naruto, in which case it’s her business.” Sasuke tried his best not to roll his eyes. “No stealing anything of mine or of hers - trust me, if I don’t catch you she definitely will. She keeps an eagle’s eye on all our stuff. Almost all our previous tenants have tried and failed and never tried again.”

Sasuke hummed. Easy rules to follow in return for a stay.

“And, Mr. Uchiha.” All of a sudden, Kakashi’s voice became razor-sharp. “ _ Do not mention your book in this house. _ ”

Sasuke jumped. Then he blinked several times in shock. “You mean  _ Tobi _ ?”

“Yes.” Kakashi’s voice was low and dangerous. His dark eye bored into Sasuke. “Do not talk about it. Do not mention it. It’s something-” and abruptly Kakashi’s voice broke off, and there was an awful quiet.

“I will explain it to you sometime if you want to hear - but I doubt you will,” said Kakashi finally.

Sasuke felt blood rushing through his body and sudden, uncontrollable panic spiraling into his brain.  _ Tobi _ . The one time he had ever dared to talk about his family to the outside world.

The book had been about his uncle Obito, who had spent a lot of time talking about his childhood back when Sasuke had stayed with him (which had been a long and rather painful story, in and of itself.) He’d found Obito to be quite tolerable as a person despite his crimes, and though he hated writing about his own life it was no problem to write about  _ Obito’s _ childhood and  _ Obito’s _ experiences. The book wasn’t very long and he’d blistered through it, finishing the whole manuscript in the few months he’d stayed at Obito’s apartment.

A few months later, he’d polished up the pages and sent them off to several publishing companies, half-expecting yet not really hoping that the idea would amount to anything. There had been other things on his mind, back when he was twenty-one. Surprisingly, Konoha Publishers had accepted the book and offered him a contract, which he had signed with his mind on other matters - which was why he suspected that he’d been ripped off.

_ Tobi _ had become just a moderate success, praised for its ‘realistic depictions of childhood trauma’ or other such crap; but the sudden influx of money - his  _ own _ money - was dizzying to Sasuke. Not to mention, his family situations were looking up as well. Those had been pretty beautiful days… when the sunlight was just beginning to peek through his darkened blinds. Just a few months later, he’d quit his old life for good - at least, the best he could; and he looked forward to making money as a novelist.

Well,  _ that _ had turned out well.

Still, perhaps life was looking up. It was a miracle that such a good deal was to be had for just four hundred a month. Even he couldn’t fuck  _ that _ up, right? As for his six-month deadline, Sasuke felt sure that he could probably shell out some generic crap quickly and keep his contract. Not bringing up his old book in conversation wouldn’t be that difficult. And besides, he was pretty sure that he really wouldn’t want to hear whatever reason Kakashi had for avoiding it; the ghosts had been buried for five years and he wasn’t about to go digging them up now.

“Alright,” he said easily. “Not a problem, er… Mr. Hatake.”

“It’s Kakashi,” said the gray-haired man cheerfully. “Why don’t you come to the table now, and we’ll work out the paperwork and other logistics. Are you moving in soon?”

“As quick as I can,” Sasuke smiled. He didn’t mention Danzo’s time limit - of which tomorrow would have been the last day.

 

Moving was a simple process. Sasuke was used to it by now, for obvious reasons; and his belongings were generally the bare minimum he needed to survive. There were always scraggly beer bottles, old plastic wrappers and unread letters - generally a layer of trash he’d been too fucking lazy to throw out which somehow accumulated to an alarming level over the past three months; but when he’d dumped it all his apartment room miraculously grew in size, and as Sasuke hauled what was left under the garbage into the van Kakashi had driven out to meet him with, he began to feel almost… happy. True, unshadowed happiness.

Danzo watched him go with a patronizing smirk coupled with a grudging appreciation for his miraculous speed at clearing out. Sasuke exchanged as few words with him as was possible and waved him out with a middle finger. Fucking creep.

Kakashi wasn’t the talkative type himself and the car ride was mostly silent, but Sasuke didn’t mind. He watched the streets and the people fly by with a sort of new interest. A change of environment would do him good. Perhaps he’d even snap out of his writer’s block.

Standing on the front steps to greet them when the car pulled into the short driveway was a tall girl with large green eyes and shocking pink hair that made Sasuke think of a cosplayer’s wig. He didn’t need Kakashi to point out, “That’s Sakura.” She couldn’t have been anyone  _ other _ than Sakura. She looked her name.

Sasuke stepped out of the van tentatively, but even so he immediately seized her attention. “You must be Sasuke Uchiha!” she exclaimed, eyes lighting up and a faint blush snaking up her cheeks. She almost tripped over her feet as she hurried over to help Sasuke unload his stuff. “Welcome! I’m so excited to meet you!”

Something told Sasuke that Sakura had  _ not _ been so excited for the previous four tenants in her flat, and he tried not to feel annoyed. He knew that look on Sakura’s face - he’d received it plenty of times in overcrowded bars, around the shitty neighborhood he had once stayed in and from Ino Yamanaka. So Sakura was another one of  _ those _ girls.

“Do you need any help?” The gush was  _ palpable _ in her voice.

“It’s alright.” Sasuke decided to be curt. “I can handle everything, thank you.”

Sakura fell back with disappointment written on her face in Sharpie. To the left Kakashi chuckled as he helped Sasuke unload one of his packs. Sasuke maneuvered the other load onto his shoulder and marched resolutely into the house. No need for moving boxes or unhelpful females, however eager they might present themselves.

It didn’t take much time to unload his belongings. Clothes, towels, and toiletries were quickly and efficiently stored away. Oh, Sasuke was good at organizing alright. He’d been taught to be good since childhood. It was only laziness and a lack of fucks to give which let most of his previous apartments run to shit.

_ This time, I won’t let that happen _ , Sasuke promised himself.  _ This time, I’ll really turn my life around. _

He said this every time he moved into a new tenant, but he liked to think that this time he said it with the most feeling he ever had.  _ A four hundred dollar place. I can’t screw this one up! _

“Want anything to eat or drink?” Sakura’s voice floated sweetly up the stairs. Kakashi, who had been casually leaning on the wooden desk as he watched Sasuke sort everything into his boxes and shelves, gave him a meaningful look that was  _ far _ too playful.

“Having better luck than your poor friend Naruto already, I see,” he said significantly.

“Is she always like that?” Sasuke asked in reply.

“Of course not.” Yep, Kakashi was definitely having too much fun. “Then again, our last few rents were unshaved and carried about as much trouble as they did lice, so it’s not surprising. Many women enjoy the charm of unknown danger, you know, for whatever mysterious reason.”

Sasuke scoffed. “Can you tell her off for me, please? I want to be able to focus on my writing.”

Kakashi laughed quietly. “I’ll inform her of your request,” he said. “Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t do much, however. Sakura’s a persistent girl, if nothing else.”

_ Well, I’ll deal _ , Sasuke sighed as he shoved the last box into place and plopped down onto his bed, exhausted. Thinking could be saved for another day.

And indeed, it was saved. For several days Sasuke felt like he was floating in warm, comfortable water, unwilling to break out of the complacent daze he had settled in in Kakashi’s house. Wake up, eat leftovers, maybe go out to walk for a while, have lunch outside, come back, nap, eat dinner. He could almost  _ hear _ all his old judo sensei berating him repeatedly.

Generally Kakashi left him alone. Sasuke didn’t see the grey-haired man much around the house, except for when mealtimes rolled around and suddenly he turned into a literal housewife rolled in with a four-star chef. At any other hour of the day he was usually out doing gods-knew-what. Kakashi remained a mystery in almost every respect which Sasuke could not help but try to pick apart, to little avail.

Sakura seemed straightforward enough, at least. Sasuke could not understand how Kakashi had chosen her for his housemate - loud and attention-seeking as she was - but somehow the man seemed to really enjoy her company. Sasuke sure didn’t. Perhaps it was because he was constantly on the receiving end of her flatterings and attention, which would grate on even the most love-starved man. She was a successful surgeon and an overseer of a ward at a nearby hospital, which Sasuke had to admit was more success than he’d ever achieved; yet - still. There was probably more to Sakura - there was always more to every person; but Sasuke felt no interest in reading into her.

His greatest interest at the moment was sleep, anyways.

However, four days into his stay at Kakashi’s, he was abruptly woken up by an unprecedented force of nature wearing a bright orange jumpsuit and a clashing blue headband.

“Hi, Kakashi! You got-  _ waaaaait!  _ You’re Sasuke!” Naruto leaped forward with a cat-like spring and catapulted right onto Sasuke, who had opened the door unsuspectingly open to find… him. A clash of light and dark, cheerful and violent who Sasuke was not sure he wanted to see or not. “Why’re you here? Well, no matter. It’s so cool that you know Kakashi!”

“Er… yeah.”

“Kakashi?... Oh, you’re there. Whatever. Hey Sasuke, let’s talk! C’mon, I knew we’d meet again. I bet you have lots of things to talk about!”

“Not really,” Sasuke sighed, settling to the fact that Naruto probably wasn’t going to leave him alone until he appeased him with a little conversation. “I just moved here a few days ago.”

“You did? Sweet!” Naruto grinned. “We can see each other more often now. I live down the street, ya know. You can come visit my place if you want but it’s not that impressive, I don’t have a knack for decorating and stuff like Kakashi does.”

“Um, sure.” The idea of visiting Naruto’s unofficial ‘home’ was not the most appealing to Sasuke, but he didn’t say that out loud.

“Do you like Kakashi? Or Sakura?” Naruto continued.

Sasuke shrugged. “They’re both nice people, I guess. Sakura’s a little clingy though.”

“ _ What? _ Sakura’s  _ clingy _ ?” Naruto shouted. “Well, I guess she must really like you then.”

“Hmm?”

“Sakura usually doesn’t give a single damn about people she doesn’t care about.” Naruto laughed ruefully. “It’s not hard to discern the  _ fuck you _ in her hair flips.”

“Well…” This conversation was  _ not _ going down a line Sasuke wanted it to go down. He decided to make a quick escape. “I need to get the mail.”

“I’ll go with you!” Naruto offered brightly before Sasuke could even say his next words -  _ You can chat with Kakashi _ . With another sigh, he relented, supposing that he might as well get used to the hyperactive orange-clad man-puppy who Kakashi had mentioned hanging around alot.

Naruto chattered as Sasuke walked down the driveway about his woes in trying to woo Sakura, and how Sasuke should consider himself a lucky man. It took all Sasuke’s effort not to roll his eyes.

Still, the strange, glazed-over look Naruto had had the day he’d first met him was branded into his mind. Naruto’s excessive bounciness only served to deepen the mystery around him. Sasuke couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of shit had happened to him in the past.

He yanked open the rusty mailbox and pulled out a large wad of magazines and catalogs coupled with several thin business letters. The mailbox was always stuffed - after all, it was shared by three people, one of whom took an express interest in nice clothes.

Sasuke had yet to share his new address with many people, however. Of course he’d emailed it to his publishers, but he didn’t expect to get any letters from them if he hadn’t sent out a new manuscript. Consequently, it was an unpleasant surprise when at the top of the pile of mail was a slip of folded paper addressed  _ Sasuke Uchiha. _

He was used to receiving slips of computer paper folded in thirds with no return address on them, but this one… this one had come rather  _ too _ quickly. The last time he’d moved, it had been a month before  _ they _ had found his contact information, and he hadn’t even been as careful as he had this time…

Perhaps moving near the projects was a bad idea after all.

“Huh? Sasuke?” Naruto said, dancing around Sasuke in a dizzying display of energy as he stared disbelievingly at the sheet of paper. Despite his cheerful expression, there was worry lacing his voice.  _ Does he know? _

Numbly, Sasuke ripped open the piece of tape holding the paper in its fold and laid it out the contents on his pile of mail. He  _ had _ to read it now. The suspense, the horrible suspense… it would kill him. His stomach dipped and an icy chill set over him. Something was wrong.

First there came the standard words always found in a blackmail letter by Orochimaru. The sentences which had little sway over him - in fact he could almost make fun of them now, if his memories of the snake-like man would stop torturing him.  _ I know where you are. You still can’t run from me, Sasuke, not after you’ve given your life to me. Why don’t we rendezvous again? You need my protection, you know. You might feel like you’ve left the Uchihas behind, but I assure you they’re right behind you, waiting to pounce. If you come back to me there won’t be any danger, pet. _

Orochimaru’s  _ protection _ was one of the last things Sasuke wanted to experience again. Till now the blackmail letters had only served as a panic stimulator, not an actual threat. Sasuke had no more family to protect, and he knew Orochimaru would never come for his life. He was just a bitch like that, trying to insinuate venom into his life and make him miserable.

But this one went a step further.

_ I have to say I like the house you found _ , the letter read.  _ You’re easier to reach then ever. Never thought you’d make the friends you happened to make, Sasuke. I especially enjoy your new relationship with Naruto Uzumaki. This makes things interesting. I can tell you lots of things about your new friends, Sasuke… about both Naruto and Kakashi. You’ve played right back into my hands, as well as the hands of your family. Wouldn’t you want to come back to me and minimize the damage? I assure I’ll tell you the most interesting stories about the orange-wearing brat. _

_ Until we meet again,  
_ _ Orochimaru. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm alive. I'd like to apologize for completely stopping updates on this fic for so long. Honestly, I have no excuses. This year I stopped writing fanfiction so much and started focusing on writing original works. I doubt I'll ever have a heavy focus on fanfics again, so updates for this fic will probably be sporadic. Please don't expect an updating schedule or anything. I may even quit writing this fic altogether. I'm very sorry, but I am moving away from fanfiction.
> 
> Anyways, I do have stuff planned for this fic anyways lol. I hope this chapter was worth the wait. I don't know if domestic!Kakashi is a thing in fanfics but I like it anyways. I hope I've kept the character's consistent. Thank you all so much for reading!


End file.
